Rant Ahead
Coming home to myself
I think one of the highlights of this year has been finding my way back to myself.
And when I say myself, I mean the parts of me that I had somehow lost along the way. The things I loved. The things I was curious about. The things I wanted to do just because I wanted to do them.
There was a time when everything felt so blank.
Everything was repetitive. Wake up, do what needs to be done, go through the motions, sleep, wake up and do it all over again. And somewhere in all of that, I stopped knowing who I was.
I didn't know what I liked anymore.
I didn't know what I was interested in.
I didn't even know what I wanted to do for fun.
I just... had no interest in anything.
And that's such a strange place to be because you can be functioning. You can be doing what you're supposed to be doing. You can be taking care of life and responsibilities, but somewhere inside, you are just... blank.
And I think the weight of life and the world contributed to that.
There was just so much to think about, so much to worry about, so many things happening, so many responsibilities, so many things that felt urgent. Eventually, the things that made me ME didn't feel important enough to make space for anymore.
But somehow, slowly, I found my way back.
I found my way back into storytelling.
Back into writing.
Back into being creative.
Back into exploring ideas just because they interest me.
And honestly, I didn't realise how much I missed it until I started doing it again.
There is something so beautiful about creating something and realising, oh... I actually like doing this.
I like writing this.
I like this idea.
I want to learn this.
I want to try that.
I think I am finally meeting myself again.
And this time, I'm trying to be kinder to her.
I'm showing myself grace.
I'm learning how to love myself again.
I'm learning how to explore my interests without immediately thinking everything has to be perfect.
Because THAT used to cripple me.
I would think, oh well, I'm not really good at this.
And that would be the end of it.
I wouldn't try because I wasn't good enough yet.
I wouldn't start because I didn't know enough yet.
I wouldn't create because I didn't think what I created would be good enough.
But who made that rule?
Who decided that you have to be good at something before you're allowed to try it?
There is no rule in the world that says you have to be perfect at something before you give it a go.
You can be bad at something.
You can be awkward at something.
You can create something and look back at it six months later and think, WHAT was I doing? 😂
That's okay!
You're allowed to grow.
You're allowed to suck at something before you get better at it.
You're allowed to learn.
You're allowed to change your mind.
You're allowed to start again.
And you're allowed to do something simply because you enjoy it.
I think I'm finally allowing myself to do that.
To just START.
To just be me.
To let my interests exist without needing them to become something impressive.
To let my skills grow naturally.
To create without constantly judging the creation.
To explore without needing to know where the exploration will take me.
And maybe that's what coming home to yourself actually feels like.
Not suddenly having everything figured out.
Not becoming some completely new person.
But slowly remembering the person who was always there.
The girl who liked creating.
The girl who liked writing.
The girl who had ideas.
The girl who was curious.
The girl who wanted to try things.
She's still here.
I just had to make room for her again.
And honestly?
I'm really happy to be coming home.
What is something you used to love that you've recently found your way back to?